what a load of rubbish

Aw man. The week's exertions are finally catching up on me methinks. I've been walking shitloads all round town in my flip flops, so now my left ankle is somehow bruised, the insides of my toes feel raw, and my lower back is killing me. Owie.

I don't know if I've already mentioned this, but Buenos Aires is dirty. Like, seriously. After about 8 or 9 o'clock at night, the streets are suddenly strewn with garbage. There's just shit everywhere. It's like Cornmarket Street in Oxford on a Saturday night, or Whitechapel Road in London after the market's been and gone. Smelly and suspiciously damp. But here it's not just confined to one road or one night, it's everywhere in the centre of town. Distressing!

Anyways, I have to check out my hostel in 8 hours. Tomorrow, I join the tour group! Exciting. Hopefully I'll have a bit more luck making friends with that lot than I have here. I went down to the hostel bar last night at about half 1 cos I just wasn't quite ready to go to bed yet and I fancied a lil drinkie. Thing is though, everyone there was already engaged in Conversation; I wasn't feeling confident or pushy enough to barge my way into one of those conversations, and no-one came to talk to me, so after about 10, 15 minutes of hovering around looking like a slightly creepy, friendless weirdo, I turned around and left. I rate that as my second non-finest moment behind passing out on the loo.

But hey, though this travelling malarkey is fun, it can't all be a bed of roses eh! Sometimes, it's a bed of rubbish. Quite literally. But speaking of bed, that is where I must go. Night!